


A Little Too Lovely (But None Too Shy)

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 1950s AU, Anal Sex, Bottom Dean, Car Sex, Fingering, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Rimming, Sex on Car, Top Sam, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-04 00:11:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written because <a href="http://lionheartnking.tumblr.com/post/44148596198/vennstiel-nothing-fixes-a-broken-engine-quite">this picture</a> showed up on Tumblr and it made me think of Dean and Sam.</p>
<p>I have no other excuses, I just wanted to write about Sam fucking Dean on the hood of a car in the 1950s.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Too Lovely (But None Too Shy)

**Author's Note:**

> [This is the car](http://www.conceptcarz.com/view/photo/725176,205/1953-Chevrolet-Corvette-C1_Photo.aspx#photo) I had in mind while I was writing. It is a 1953 Chevy Corvette.
> 
> My headcanon for this fic is that the boys stole it somewhere (or maybe it belonged to someone who fell prey to a supernatural being), painted it black so it wouldn't be so noticeable at night and not spotted as easily by the possibe original owner, and have a bunch of weapons in the trunk. I'm guessing that Dean would've built a hard top instead of keep it as a convertible, because that would give them better protection when something tries to attack them. 
> 
> I would've gone for an Impala but they weren't in production yet at this time and there wasn't really a different option for me because none of the other hoods were flat and I wanted to make things at least a little bit comfortable for Dean.

** Minnesota, 1954 **

 

Sam looks up from his book when Dean pulls over to the side of the road. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks and Dean slams his hand against the steering wheel.

“Fucking engine’s overheated again,” he says and Sam resists the urge to tell Dean it’s probably because _he_ is overheated. 

Dean opens the hood and Sam stays in the car a little longer before deciding that it would be nice to breathe some fresh air because it’s sweltering hot inside the car. His shirt is sticking to his back and his slacks feel like they’ve been plastered to his butt, and his hands are so clammy that the pages of his book are wrinkling under the touch of his fingers.

He watches Dean from a small distance, while he straightens his lapels and wishing he was wearing the same kind of plaid shirt Dean is in. His suit gets uncomfortable, sometimes. These are their roles though. Dean is the lumberjack and Sam the real-estate agent telling the home-owner that tree is dangerously close to their house. Dean is the new neighbor and Sam his friend the financial advisor who would like to get to know the neighbors. Dean is the car mechanic and Sam the lawyer who are road-tripping through the US. Dean is the cool guy and Sam the smart-ass. 

It’s a good thing that they’re brothers, too, or (even more) people would’ve assumed that they are sodomites. Their shared surname and slight likeliness saves them a lot of odd looks when they’re checking into a motel, especially the small-town ones. Sam’s been asked more than once if they didn’t want separate rooms, until he said they are relatives. 

But really—what do people know about them anyway? What do they know about the assumptions they make?

Sam sometimes wonders what they say to each other when they discover that the bed linen of only one bed is wrinkled, and stained with semen. If that makes the motel’s owners think they’re even more perverse than they initially thought; not just homosexuals but incestuous, too. Or if they assume that they are carrying fake ID’s with the same surname (which would make them right most of the time) so they can sleep in the same room, in the same bed (and again, this assumption would be right).

And then Dean will pull him from his thoughts by chuffing his ear or slapping the back of his head and say, “It’s all right, Sammy-boy. Just-“ and usually he’ll ask where the nearest café or motel is.

Dean looks good today, out in the sunshine. He’s got his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and sweat is pearling on his forehead as he bends over the engine of the car. His muscles are working under his skin and Sam wants to touch him. He walks up closer, until his hips are brushing against Dean’s backside, but the only response Dean gives is to ask, “Found anything useful on vamps in that book of yours?”

Sam shrugs and holds the book up, reading the page he was looking at again. “Says here they were thriving in the America of the nineteenth century, right before the Civil War and especially in the areas of Wisconsin, Minnesota and North-Dakota. Before that, the only actual uproar they caused were in the middle ages in the Eastern European countries.”

“Especially in Romania, yeah?” Dean asks and he straightens up. Sam doesn’t move away from him though and Dean briefly presses himself into him. Then a car with a couple in it drives past and hoots at them. Sam knows that Dean winks at the car and then bends over a little more lewdly than before.

“You should be more careful,” Sam chuckles, though he knows they probably won’t get caught. Certainly not when there’s a woman in the car, too, because Dean’ll charm the panties right off her and the husband or lover will be too jealous to even remember appeared to be feeling up a guy only minutes before.

“Yeah, right,” Dean just huffs and does something and the engine lets out a hiss. Dean himself sighs and Sam puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Look, we don’t have to get to Montana in a day, you know. The vamps probably won’t be doing much harm there.”

“I fucking know, alright Sam? I just-“ Dean sighs again and leans back once more, using his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his brow. Then he twists around so he can look up at Sam. “You don’t need to tell me what to do. Now go and sit in the car. I’ll be right with you, baby should be fine soon.”

“And I do what you’re telling me to, or what?” Sam smirks bemusedly and rubs his crotch against Dean’s hip. He’s always thought Dean looks more attractive when he gets a little irritated. Not that he usually isn’t—but an irritated Dean makes Sam want to bend him over the nearest available surface and fuck him raw. Dean’s eyes open a little wider when he realizes Sam’s half hard and pushes his oily fingers through his hair, slicking it back.

“Yeah, ok, I get it,” he says, “Gimme a minute.” He turns back to the car and Sam drags his hardening cock along the line of Dean’s butt once more before walking away to go sit in the car. He’s always been bad at denying whatever his brother asks of him.

When Dean gets in the car, he slams the door closed and looks at Sam. “Where’d you wanna go, nearest motel?”

“I guess,” Sam smirks even if he’s planning on making Dean beg for it much sooner. He casually places his hand on Dean’s thigh, his small finger resting against his groin and rubbing gently. 

“You guess, huh,” Dean says as he starts the engine and puts the car in gear. “Or are you planning on killing us before we get there?”

Sam smiles at him sweetly and just keeps rubbing, feeling how Dean’s growing harder under his easy touches. He has to adjust himself in his suit, then, and the pleasurable result is that it catches Dean’s attention. From then on Dean’s eyes switch back and forth between the road and the bulge between Sam’s legs.

“When’s the next motel?” he asks after about a quarter of an hour and Sam shrugs, taking a guess. “About forty minutes? Maybe? I don’t know.”

Dean mumbles a quiet curse and promptly turns onto what seems to be a remote road leading to maybe one or two farms. Or perhaps to none—perhaps the road’s only there to get to the large fields of crops that soon spread out on either side of them. Dust blows up and forms large clouds behind the car and Dean rolls up his window. Sam doesn’t—he simply sits back and enjoys the summery smell of drying hay on his side of the road.

After another ten minutes of driving Dean seems to be sure they’re far away enough from civilization to stop the car and pull Sam into a hard kiss. Corn is growing tall on either side of them. His hands are in Sam’s hair and Sam has to keep himself from falling over into Dean’s lap by bracing himself on the upholstery. Then Dean sneaks down a hand and starts rubbing against Sam’s dick, and he _does_ fall into Dean. There are limbs everywhere and Dean starts to laugh when Sam glares at him while he tries to sort himself out.

“The car is too small for this,” Dean tells Sam, still chuckling as he gets out. He walks around the car and opens the door on Sam’s side as well, pulling him out and onto the sandy road. Almost immediately after he presses Sam against the car, kissing him again while their hips lock together. Dean’s still hard and Sam moans into the kiss when he shoves his thigh between Sam’s.

“Jesus, Sammy,” Dean murmurs in the space between breaking the kiss and latching his mouth onto the pulse point in Sam’s neck. “Sure know how to drive someone crazy.”

“I know how to drive _you_ crazy,” Sam gasps while Dean sinks his teeth lightly into his skin, his hands trembling as he shoves them under Dean’s shirt. The skin he feels is warm and a little sweaty and Sam needs to feel more, see more, so he shoves it up. Dean lifts his arms and allows Sam to pull it off completely.

“You look so good,” Sam says then and he twirls them around so Dean’s the one leaning against the hood. In a fluent motion he sits up a little and spreads his legs so Sam can stand in between them, their crotches now at the same height so Sam can roll his dick against Dean’s. “Want you so bad. Fuck you right here and-”

“Do it,” Dean grits out, already fumbling with his jeans; popping open the buttons. 

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Sam kisses him once more and then reaches into the car through the open window while Dean drops his jeans and steps out of them. He finds the Vaseline and leaves it on the passenger seat while he strips out of his slacks and suit jacket, throwing them inside. Then Dean comes to stand behind him, with his dick hard against Sam’s ass as he pushes his hand up Sam’s chest and pinches his nipple.

“Did you have to do that?” he asks indignantly and Dean laughs, his breath hot against Sam’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I did.” Sam rolls his eyes and pulls off his shirt then, feeling Dean press his chest to his back right away. When Dean’s about to start humping Sam’s ass, however, he grabs the Vaseline and turns around. 

“Not so fast,” he says, silencing Dean with a kiss immediately after. “I know you’re horny but I’m gonna make this great for you, you’ll feel so good. Bend over the hood.”

Dean glares at him, probably worried about getting the car dirty, but Sam just shrugs and grabs Dean’s wrist to guide him there. He makes Dean stand with his legs spread and his hands braced on the metal before scooping up a healthy amount of Vaseline.

He slides in two fingers at once and feels Dean clench around him. It takes a little searching—just like it’d taken a lot of exercise the first several times he’d done this—but then he finds Dean’s prostate and grins at the way Dean’s knees buckle; the way his knuckles turn white in an effort to hold on to the car a little better.

“Like that, huh?” he whispers before biting Dean’s butt cheek, evoking a yelp.

“You fucking asshole,” Dean groans, clenching a little harder around Sam’s fingers. Sam huffs out a laugh because yeah, he is fucking an asshole. 

“How horny are you?” he asks Dean, who groans and pushes back on Sam’s fingers.

“Horny enough to take another finger.” Of course Sam complies this time as well, slipping in another finger that makes Dean feel even tighter. With his other hand he starts to stroke himself through his underwear. A damp spot is already forming at the front, but he doesn’t want to fuck Dean. Not yet, anyway. That’s something he’s saving for later.

“And how about coming twice?”

Dean moans again and his hips shoot forwards. “Yeah, yeah, twice, whatever you say, fuck, Sam, shit, just let me-“

“Not yet,” Sam says, pressing a kiss to the small of Dean’s back. “Soon, okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean mumbles, “Yeah, that’s good, oh, oh fuck Sam,” and a couple of rivulets of sweat are starting to drip down his back. Sam _wants_ to get up, to press himself up against that expanse of skin and start to fuck Dean quick and hard and he knows that he could, too, but he doesn’t. 

Instead he licks down the crack of Dean’s ass, slow and sure and making Dean tremble even though Sam’s grimacing at the mixture of sweat and Vaseline his tongue gets coated in. When Dean’s vocal enough for his liking (“Jesus, Sam, can’t you please just fucking hurry up oh god my balls oh I need to I have to you are a mean sonofabitch-”) he pulls out his fingers.

“Sam!” Dean whines (Sam won’t deny it later, even if Dean will). “Come on, I was about to come,” but Sam doesn’t respond. Instead he just gets up so he can stand behind Dean and push his fingers back in, rubbing against his prostate while he jerks Dean fast with his free hand. He spits out the better part of the goo in his mouth and swallows a couple of times before the taste is mostly gone.

“Yeah, come on baby,” he tells Dean then, rubbing his own erection against Dean’s hip. “Come for me, come all over your car. See if you can get it to the other side, whether you’re really as horny as you say-“ 

And then Dean’s moaning “Sam, feels so-” as he comes, shooting his load across the hood of the car as he clenches tight around Sam’s fingers. 

“That’s it,” Sam whispers in his ears, keeping Dean up by leaning up against him, “That’s it, let it all go.”

Dean shudders when he’s done and Sam just keeps him propped up against the car while he quickly steps out of his own briefs. He slicks himself up with the excess Vaseline that dripped down Dean’s legs earlier and then aligns himself. He doesn’t ask if Dean’s okay because he’s sure that he _is_ and pushes in.

Regardless of having just had three fingers up there _and_ an orgasm, Dean is still tight and Sam moans into the feeling. “Christ, Dean, if I’d known you were this tight I would’ve taken you this morning,” he breathes as his hips stutter to a stop, flush against Dean’s ass. 

“Would’ve let you, too,” Dean moans, still limp between Sam’s body and the car. When Sam pulls out and pushes back in for the first time Dean lets himself fall onto the hood, his feet scrambling for purchase on the ground. Sam starts to fuck Dean in earnest then, fast and hard and just the way he knows Dean likes it. The way _he_ likes it. Each time he pushes in, he’s met by a moan from Dean and that, in turn, gets Sam loud as well.

“I fucking love you, love this so much,” he tells Dean when he slows down a little, his sentence interspersed with gasps. “I fucking love _fucking_ you,” and to emphasize it he pulls Dean back from where he’s shifted up the hood a little, back onto his cock. 

“I love it when you fuck me,” Dean breathes in response. “Jesus, just, fuck Sam, I could do this all day and I’d stay hard.”

“You’re hard again?” Sam whispers in his brother’s ear and even though it’s not a surprise when Dean nods “yes” in a pretty frantic kind of way, it still turns Sam on more than anything. “That’s so hot.” A shiver runs down his spine.

“Just fuck me harder,” Dean says and then Sam’s fucking him again, as fast as he can, his balls slapping against Dean’s ass. 

“I’m gonna-“ he moans because Dean deserves to know, “I’m gonna come, shit, Dean, shit, come on, I’m gonna spill everything I’ve got inside you-“ and then he _is_ coming because Dean’s clenching around him, that smug bastard, and Sam can’t do anything about it but brace his hands next to Dean’s and ride his orgasm out. His hips stutter wildly a few more times and then he’s spent. 

“Don’t pull out yet,” Dean says then, grabbing Sam’s butt to keep him close. He pushes himself up and starts to stroke himself while Sam focuses on staying hard and inside of Dean. He rests his chin on Dean’s shoulder and one hand on Dean’s thigh as he watches his brother jerk off.

“Won’t take much longer,” Dean grins at Sam and then twists his head so they can kiss. Sam can’t see it when Dean comes again, and it can’t be an orgasm as powerful as the first time, but he feels Dean’s body tense up a couple of times, more and more, until he relaxes and draws away from the kiss.

“Good?” Sam asks and Dean smiles a little more bashful this time. 

“Yeah, yeah it was,” he tells Sam. “ Fucking fantastic, actually. Can’t drive the car now though, I don’t think I can keep my legs together just yet.”

Sam smiles and reaches between Dean’s legs to find a mess of come and Vaseline dripping from his asshole. His stomach’s covered in come-smears that are darkened by dust and so is the car. “I’ll get you a towel first, so you can clean up.” 

Dean groans and stays put, still leaning against the car.  
-

When they’ve cleaned up and are on the road again, Sam tries to talk to Dean about the vamps but each time he looks over at Dean, Dean just grins lewdly at him and spreads his legs a little further. Sam knows that he can probably still feel Sam’s semen drip out of him, wetting his-

Which is why it’s a good thing that Sam has the vampires to worry about. And that later, when Sam looks over to check why Dean has grown so silent, he finds that his brother has fallen asleep.

With his mouth opened. Sometimes, Sam wishes he had a camera.

~Fin


End file.
